47th, Autumn, 508 A.V.
Vequil stalked his target, bare feet padding each step as he slowly inched towards the man. A pouch of Mizas clinked as they swayed with the man's walking figure, music to Vequil's ears. The autumn air carried a slight chill, receding warmth having mostly travelled somewhere else. In summer, the sun cooked the dirt roads. Back then his feet were able to feet the rising heat from the ground. Now it was different, the warmth replaced with cold, and it began sending chills through his body. By winter he would need warm meals and shoes. By winter he'll have need for coin.
More than half a season had passed since Vequil's entry into the city. He soon learned that Sunberth was a place of little compassion where people had to look out for themselves. On the very first day three boys chased him down into the end of an alleyway and robbed him clean of all he had, leaving him to rot away like the rest in the city. He survived. A few days later Chir was taken away, and a few more days later he lost the shoes he had just managed to buy. He still survived. Now Vequil still had his life and his dagger, now they were all he wished to keep.
Vequil followed behind the coin purse, waiting for the opportune moment. The man wore a shirt of cotton, embroidered in a weird pattern of blue and dark yellow - the type that would pass for gold at a mere glance. One learns to recognize the color of gold quick in Sunberth, before he would learn the glint of steel, and eyes that bore ill will. Maren once told him that every man relied on but one of a few things. Either gold, cunning, his sword arm or his friends. With but a single one a man would be able to make a stand for himself. With but a single blunder in another, and a man would be doomed. For Vequil, he only wanted quick silent hands and quick silent feet. His first act of theft was at a stall by the Seaside Market. A skinny, red faced guard caught him just as he was slipping the cut of salted ham into his sash. The guard punched him in the gut and sent him so far for a moment Vequil thought he flew, just like Chir. Redface then let him off with a warning that he'll chop his hand off the next time he catches him. "Caught red-handed." The guard joked, when he saw Vequil's right arm. He then began laughing at his own joke as if it was the most amusing thing in the world. The pain in his gut hurt, but the fear of losing a hand bit deeper. He stopped stealing the next day, and stopped eating. By the next day again the hunger was too much to bear, and he managed to swipe a few strips of of dried bacon when the guard wasn't looking. He ran out of the skinny, red-faced man's sight before he turned back around, and he went on to try his hand for the other stalls. It must've been his lucky day. By the end of his little trip he had a side of bacon, an apple, half a chunk of bread and a slice of cheese. The only time he came close to being caught was when he turned a corner and ran straight into one of the stall owners. His heart thumped as the man walked toward him...and passed, mind occupied with something.
That day he had a feast, and the next day as soon as he reached his arm out the red-faced guard shouted and came running after him. Vequil managed to slip past his grasp and lose him after running past a few corners. Every stall he went after was the same. As soon as he tried anything funny he'd be spotted and chased. The pattern repeated days after, and he couldn't manage to steal a single thing.
Days slowly passed, and weeks, months. He started off trying to slip things from stalls into his pockets, and by now he could clumsily snatch away a thing or two, or at least know when to give up and run. Just yesterday he managed to slip his hands into a woman's basket while she was bargaining for a few onions. He took her bread and made off with it, his feet carrying him well beyond her chase before she screamed in realization of her missing food.
Now that Vequil thought about it, the bread was likely for the dinner table. Her kids probably had to go to bed hungry that day. He tried not to care.
More than half a season had passed since Vequil's entry into the city. He soon learned that Sunberth was a place of little compassion where people had to look out for themselves. On the very first day three boys chased him down into the end of an alleyway and robbed him clean of all he had, leaving him to rot away like the rest in the city. He survived. A few days later Chir was taken away, and a few more days later he lost the shoes he had just managed to buy. He still survived. Now Vequil still had his life and his dagger, now they were all he wished to keep.
Vequil followed behind the coin purse, waiting for the opportune moment. The man wore a shirt of cotton, embroidered in a weird pattern of blue and dark yellow - the type that would pass for gold at a mere glance. One learns to recognize the color of gold quick in Sunberth, before he would learn the glint of steel, and eyes that bore ill will. Maren once told him that every man relied on but one of a few things. Either gold, cunning, his sword arm or his friends. With but a single one a man would be able to make a stand for himself. With but a single blunder in another, and a man would be doomed. For Vequil, he only wanted quick silent hands and quick silent feet. His first act of theft was at a stall by the Seaside Market. A skinny, red faced guard caught him just as he was slipping the cut of salted ham into his sash. The guard punched him in the gut and sent him so far for a moment Vequil thought he flew, just like Chir. Redface then let him off with a warning that he'll chop his hand off the next time he catches him. "Caught red-handed." The guard joked, when he saw Vequil's right arm. He then began laughing at his own joke as if it was the most amusing thing in the world. The pain in his gut hurt, but the fear of losing a hand bit deeper. He stopped stealing the next day, and stopped eating. By the next day again the hunger was too much to bear, and he managed to swipe a few strips of of dried bacon when the guard wasn't looking. He ran out of the skinny, red-faced man's sight before he turned back around, and he went on to try his hand for the other stalls. It must've been his lucky day. By the end of his little trip he had a side of bacon, an apple, half a chunk of bread and a slice of cheese. The only time he came close to being caught was when he turned a corner and ran straight into one of the stall owners. His heart thumped as the man walked toward him...and passed, mind occupied with something.
That day he had a feast, and the next day as soon as he reached his arm out the red-faced guard shouted and came running after him. Vequil managed to slip past his grasp and lose him after running past a few corners. Every stall he went after was the same. As soon as he tried anything funny he'd be spotted and chased. The pattern repeated days after, and he couldn't manage to steal a single thing.
Days slowly passed, and weeks, months. He started off trying to slip things from stalls into his pockets, and by now he could clumsily snatch away a thing or two, or at least know when to give up and run. Just yesterday he managed to slip his hands into a woman's basket while she was bargaining for a few onions. He took her bread and made off with it, his feet carrying him well beyond her chase before she screamed in realization of her missing food.
Now that Vequil thought about it, the bread was likely for the dinner table. Her kids probably had to go to bed hungry that day. He tried not to care.
